Highland Titles
by Phoenix122333
Summary: You know that website that lets you buy a piece of the Scottish highlands and become a Lord, Laird, or Lady? I bought into it, and let's just say it's a bit more...magical...then you'd think.
1. Packages and Letters

"Aaaaand…submit!", I finished with a flourish. I had just finished applying to buy as much Scottish land as I could feasibly afford at the moment, which (while it was only one square foot) technically made me a Scottish Lord. I snickered to myself at the stupid-sounding thought and logged into my e-mail account to get my certificate of ownership, and to also check the order receipt for the polo shirt, tie, cuff-links, and engraved wall plaque I had also bought.

What? It was a moment of weakness…

Anyways, I printed out my certificate and slipped it into the frame I had bought earlier. I snickered again and popped the stand out of the back, putting out down on the desk and grinning. Then, as I noticed that there was no order receipt, the doorbell rang.

I ignored it, as teenagers are wont to do, until my mom called down the stairs, "Jason! Package for you!", and piqued my confused interest. The only package I was expecting was the one with my clothes and plaque, and I had literally _just _placed the order for it. I ran up the stairs to see what all the fuss was about.

Indeed, sitting on the table was a medium-sized box. I took a knife out of the cutlery drawer and strode over to the box on the kitchen table, cutting the tape and opening the flaps. And what did I find inside?

My clothes and plaque, along with a letter.

"What?!", I exclaimed in surprise, "I literally _just _ordered these five minutes ago!". I plucked the shirt from the package and held it up, and indeed, it was the shirt I had ordered. It even had my last name, Thrace, stitched onto the breast. I folded it and put it on the table, then pulled out the tie, cuff-links, and plaque. There they were, plain as day, when they shouldn't have arrived for at least three more weeks. Then, I noticed something odd.

When I had placed the order, the website said I had purchased land in the Glencoe Wood, a part of the Keil Estate, but the wall plaque proclaimed me the proud owner of a piece of the Conditor Tract. I furrowed my brow in confusion, then pulled out my phone and Googled the two words.

Apparently, 'Conditor ' is latin for 'Founder', and Tract is another word for Estate. "I own a piece of the Founder Estate?", I asked the air in puzzlement, then glanced at the last item from the box.

I picked the letter up and read the address, written in long, flowing letters with dark ink and a strange texture.

_Jason Thrace of Thrace_  
_3939 Rochdale Blvd.,_  
_Regina, SK_  
_Canada_

I raised an eyebrow at the strange address, then shrugged and chalked it up to my new Lordliness. I tore the envelope open and drew the parchment (?) out, glancing at the address once more before beginning to read the letter, written in the same flowing letters.

_Dear Thrace,_

_We at Gringotts would like to congratulate you on your recent acquisition of a piece of the Conditor Tract. Though it is but a small piece of a much larger estate, we here at Gringotts know that small beginnings are just that: beginnings._

_That being said, we would like to inform you of a shareholder's meeting on the first of September, held in the Great Hall of Conditor Castle. Though it came to be known by a different name some six hundred years ago, it was decreed to Gringotts by the original owners that the original name should never be forgotten._

_Transport to the Castle shall arrive promptly at five p.m. sharp, waiting either a half an hour, or until the phrase 'stocks, shares, and dividends' is said, before departing with anyone who is touching the item in question. It is the hope of all of the employees of Gringotts that the meeting results in further wealth being amassed, and we would like to remind you that we are here should you ever need a place to store it._

_May the gold of your enemies forever enrich your vault,_  
_Ragnok_  
_Director of Gringotts Bank_  
_Diagon Alley_  
_London_

…Oh dear.


	2. Shareholders and Explanations

"I must be insane.", I muttered to myself as I paced in my bedroom, becoming increasingly more frantic with each tick of the clock, "Gringotts is fictional. Somebody just thought it'd be funny to slip a letter from it into my package. Hand-written on parchment. With a fake bank seal.".

Yeah. That's probably what happened. At least it was more plausible than the Wizarding World being real (though I wouldn't be averse to the idea). And I thought I had to bother my parents with this! Honestly, they would have laughed at my concerns and then told me I was too old to believe in such things. "Now I feel silly for putting my suit on. Good thing I didn't tell them.", I muttered, "I would have been the laughing stock of everyone until the day I-".

In a flash of light, an innocent-looking ring appeared on my desk.

I blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then I panicked.

"How is this a thing?!", I whisper-shouted so as to not alert my parents, picking up the ring, "This is not supposed to be a thing!". I stared down at the ring, then whisper-screamed as I flailed my arms in well-deserved delirious panic. This went on for around twenty minutes until I got tired of panicking and trudged upstairs.

"Mom!? Dad!?", I yelled, searching for either of my parents. Seemed dad had gone to work, but mom answered me with a shout of, "Yes!?". I hopped up the stairs and opened the bedroom door, leaning against the frame and saying, "Uh, something weird just happened.". "What is it, hon?", she asked in slight concern, and I took a deep breath.

"Remember that package I got yesterday? Well, it had a letter from Gringotts in Diagon Alley in it. I was all ready to dismiss it as a hoax, but the letter mentioned something arriving at five today, and then this ring appeared on my desk.", I said in a rush, biting the inside of my cheek and waiting for her answer. It was, unsurprisingly, a sigh. "Jason, I thought something was wrong. Don't play jokes like that on people.", she admonished, going back to the TV.

I don't know why I did what I did next, but it was a thing that happened that much is certain. I slipped the ring on my finger and scoffed, saying, "Fine, _don't _pay attention to my problem. I'm going to a shareholders meeting, don't wait up.", and with a murmuring of 'stocks, shares, and dividends', the world was crushed into a tiny mote of light in front of me. Everything else was black. I wasn't even really sure if it _was _light; it could have been white paint, or perhaps a hole in space. Whatever it was, it expanded quickly, restoring the world. Or…perhaps pulling me back into it.

Except, I wasn't in my parents' bedroom anymore. I was in the Great Hall. At Hogwarts. During suppertime.

After a moment, I said out loud, "So _that's _what they meant by 'different name'.". Then I got unnerved by the stares all the students were directing at me, so I turned to address whoever the Headmaster/mistress might be. I dimly noted that the staff was all the same as in the books, but then I saw who the Headmaster was and all thought processes stopped.

"Oh, not _you_!", I groaned disdainfully, avoiding looking into the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"And _what _is wrong with the Headmaster?", Snape asked coolly from Dumbledore's left, and I eyed him with scepticism. "Nothing you need concern yourself with, Professor Snape.", I responded in an equally cool voice, which did nothing but earn me a raised eyebrow. I avoided his eyes like I did Dumbledore's, turning instead to face Professor McGonagall. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about a shareholder's meeting that's supposed to take place?", I asked her, and confusion lit in her eyes. "Ah, yes, it's right after lunch, but students aren't allowed to sit in.", she informed me, and with an almost nonexistent smile I replied, "It's a good thing I'm not a student then.".

"If I may, where do you go to school then, young man? You don't seem to have either a French or Bulgarian accent.", Dumbledore asked kindly, and I replied, "You may not. You may chalk my lack of a recognizable accent up to my being from Canada.". Professor McGonagall blinked and asked, "Canada? Well, what on Earth are you doing _here_?", and I replied with a smile, "I was sent a portkey by the Goblins to attend the shareholders meeting.". Her eyes widened slightly, and she asked incredulously, "_You're _a shareholder of Hogwarts?".

"Seems that way. Mind you, I didn't mean to become on. I was under the impression I was buying a part of the Keil Estate.", I said, glancing at Professor Flitwick when he scoffed. "Our neighbours a little ways to the north. Think they're the Lords of the world.", he groused, waving his hand dismissively. I snickered and looked down at the ring portkey, noting that the Hogwarts coat of arms was engraved on it where, before, the Glencoe coat of arms was. Probably a glamour to disguise it when it was absent from Hogwarts, or perhaps - yes, it changed back. Tuned to my thoughts, then.

"I'm sorry, but why wouldn't Gringotts just say you were buying a part of Hogwarts? Seems to me that a lot more people would be inclined to purchase if they did.", Professor Sprout said curiously, and I gave her a wide smile before answering, "That would be because they advertised in the Muggle world.". "The Muggle world? Wouldn't that severely limit the amount of wizards and witches that could buy?", she asked, but I could see Professor Flitwick had already figured it out.

"Well, yes, it would, but I don't think they're worried about that.", I said in the tone of voice usually reserved for talking about the weather. I smiled slightly at Professor Flitwick and he immediately caught on. "Why would you say that?", he asked in genuine-sounding curiosity, and I waited a moment before answering. The Hall had gone deathly silent to hear my answer.

I smirked and said, "Probably because muggles are the expected buyers.".

This caused _quite _ a bit of noise in the Hall, let me tell you.

I crossed my arms as I turned back around, raising an eyebrow at the range of emotions I saw throughout the student body. The Slytherins, as a collective group, expressed shock and rage. Well, mostly rage. The Ravenclaws looked thoughtful, and most of them were in serious-looking discussions with neighbors. Around half of the Hufflepuffs looked as thoughtful as the Ravenclaws, though without the fierce debates, and the other half seemed torn between two subgroups; angry as the Slytherins and brash as the Gryffindors.

Speaking of the Gryffs, they were by far the most vocal of the lot. Yelling to anyone who would listen that Muggles weren't allowed to own parts of Hogwarts, they just weren't, and that it was an outrage how the Goblins would do this. I raised my other eyebrow as the yelling got a little more violent in nature, but I decided to say something when the first punch was thrown.

"Alright, enough!", I yelled, and surprisingly everyone heard and quieted down. I suspected magic was afoot.

"Now, some of you may be wondering about Gringotts' rash decision to allow muggles to buy parts of Hogwarts.", I began, then paused as the shouting began again. The outcries were quickly silenced by the people who actually wanted to listen to me (which surprised me; who'd want to listen to me?), and I continued, "The fact is, there are simply too few wizards to buy enough parts of Hogwarts. Instead of simply dividing the castle up into one foot by one foot squares, the Goblins divided Hogwarts into one foot by one foot by one foot cubes. This means that you could just as easily own a patch of empty air as you could actual castle or ground.".

I paused for a moment to eye the Great Hall, then continued, "I'd say the Great Hall is somewhere around two hundred feet by one hundred feet by one hundred fifty feet. That's three million square feet of prime Hogwarts land just ripe for the selling. It's also about two point nine five million too many square feet to be sold feasibly to _only _Britain's wizarding world. Taking into account that the Ministry for Magic probably put a 'no foreign wizards' clause into the selling of the school grounds, the Muggle world was the only way to go.".

"Oh come _on_. How much could it possibly cost to buy this heap of a school?", the voice of Draco Malfoy drawled from the Slytherin table, and after a calculation in my head I replied, "Well, one square foot is thirty pounds, so taking into account the current pounds-to-Galleons conversion rate… The Great Hall alone would cost eighteen million Galleons by my rough estimate. No doubt the Goblins would be more exact in their measurement, down to the last speck of space between the bricks.". This had the interesting effect of shutting him up.

"If there are no more questions?", I asked, then continued with a smile, "Good, because with that I think the meeting is getting ready to begin.". And what should happen not five seconds after I finished speaking? A middle-aged man dressed in a navy suit blinked into existence, wearing a ring exactly like mine and a bewildered expression. Then another person came into being, a young-looking woman in a beige pant suit, and another, and another, and then suddenly the Hall was bustling with Scottish Lords, Lairds, and Ladies chattering in confusion and panic.

"Okay, calm down!", I yelled, and once again, magic magnified my voice. Once the panic had died down, I smiled and said, "The shareholders meeting will now commence. Prefects, lead the First Years to the Common Rooms, and older students, do not miss curfew. If anyone is still hungry, simply call for a House Elf.". I paused to let the students start with their migration out of the Hall, then continued, "Shareholders, if you would wait a few moments, seats will be provided and an explanation will be given. Thank you.".

Five minutes later the Hall was empty of students, though interestingly Dumbledore and the House Heads had elected to remain. I flicked my hand, just to see, and to my surprise the House tables vanished to be replaced with rows of wooden pews. I blinked in surprise, then smiled genially and gestured for everyone to take a seat. Most of them looked awed, confused, or freaked out at the display of magic, and to tell the truth so was I, but a few had careful masks of stoic coolness in place. _They're going to be fun to work with, I can tell_, I thought to myself, then cleared my throat as everyone finished settling.

"Okay. I bet a lot of you are wondering what's going on. In the best case scenario, you're a half-blood who's unwittingly purchased a piece of this fine castle, and at the worst you have no idea what's going on. If you're part of the latter group, let me explain.", I said, pausing for a moment before continuing.

"First things first, magic is real. You saw a sample of it when I had the tables turned into pews, but it can do so much more. It can turn anything into anything else, it can conjure most things from thin air, it can main and kill and heal and cure. It can do anything one sets their mind to.". I paused to let this sink in, which took a few moments. Then I continued.

"For centuries there has been a secret world of magical people hiding under our very noses. Driven into hiding by heinous events such as the Salem witch hunts, wizards and witches hide themselves from the eyes of non-magical folk to avoid such bloodbaths. They have their own Ministry for Magic, along with a police force called the Auror Corps and a court of law that _technically _shouldn't exist. We'll get into that later, though.".

"This is Conditor Castle, located on the plot of land known as Conditor Tract. Some six hundred years ago it became known by another name, for reasons unknown, but Gringotts was tasked by the original owners to never forget the original name. All of you have purchased at least one cubed foot of the Tract, except you thought you were purchasing part of the Keil Estate. The truth is, Keil Estate is a little ways north of here, and I speculate that it is owned by Gringotts Bank. I think that they simply used the name because it is known in the non-magical world while the Tract is not, and so the Tract is probably counted as a part of it.".

I paused again to let the information sink in, calling out softly for a House Elf. A cheery elf called Karry popped into existence beside me, and I asked, "Could I perhaps get some orange juice, please?". She nodded vigorously, and two popping noises later I had a goblet of fresh-squeezed orange juice in front of me. "Thank you, Karry.", I said to her brightly, and she beamed before popping away. I narrowed my eyes in thought, then shook my head and took a sip of my juice. I set it down on the owl podium and waited for the various whispered conversations to die down.

"Any questions before I continue?", I called out, and a few hands were raised. "Yes?", I asked, pointing to a gentleman in a black suit, and he called back, "What did you mean when you said they had a court of law that shouldn't exist?". I hesitated before answering, then said, "As I said, we will get into that later, but there is a branch of the Ministry for Magic called the Wizengamot. They deal with the law in the wizarding world, but the fact of the matter is that the Crown did not sanction nor approve their formation. They are, in no uncertain terms, an illegitimate group of wizards passing illegitimate laws.". A number of people gasped in surprise and outrage, and I made a quieting motion with my hands. "Yes, yes, it is outrageous, I know. We will be able to draft an official letter to Buckingham Palace later, but for now, explanations are in order. Any more questions?".

I looked around the sea of raised hands, and was pleased to see not a few people my own age. I pointed to a girl with long, dark-brown hair wearing a light blue polo shirt and a white skirt and prompted, "Yes?". She drew a breath, then called, "Am I right in assuming that this is Hogwarts?". I blinked, then smiled and answered, "That is the name it has come to be known by, yes.". She looked around the Hall with renewed awe, then shook her head and called out, "So, everything that happened in the books is true?". I thought about this for a moment, then called back, "I've no way of knowing at this point. However, if you wish, one of the items on this board's agenda could be to draft a letter to Harry Potter. It would recount the events of the books, extremely condensed of course, and ask him to simply confirm if that's the way everything happened.". The girl looked satisfied, but then Dumbledore spoke up.

I was wondering when he'd jump in.

"If you are looking for clarification, my dear girl, then I would be happy to provide it.", he said, his eyes twinkling, but the girl (who I now resolved to befriend) said with a smile, "Frankly, Headmaster, I don't trust you. There's a chance you aren't the Dumbledore from the books, but there's also a chance you are. No offence.".

Dumbledore frowned a bit and asked curiously, "What could my literary self have done that is so horrible?", and the girl replied with a level-headedness that surprised me, "He hid the Philosopher's Stone in the school in the hopes of luring _Lord Voldemort_ of all people to it, he hired Professor Quirrell when the school's wards no doubt alerted him he was possessed, he allowed a mountain troll to be snuck in, he snuck a Cerberus into the school to guard said Stone, he placed Devil's Snare just beyond the Cerberus, he placed a room full of deadly keys just beyond the Snare, and finally he placed the Mirror of Erised at the end of this Hall of Horrors. All guarded by a single locked door, easily opened by an _Alohomora_.".

"And that was only the 1991-1992 school year!", a male voice called out.

"Indeed.", I said placidly, "And until we know for a fact that reality does not take after the books, we will be unable to trust you. I'm sorry.".I turned back to the shareholders and commented, "I am impressed with your ability to differentiate between the Dumbledore from the books and the Dumbledore sitting behind me. Most people would have used 'you' instead of 'he' and 'him'.". The girl smiled, and I smiled back. Then I asked once more, "Any other questions?".

"Yeah, why are _you _the one up front instead of someone more qualified? You're just some kid!", a smug-looking man in glasses yelled, and a few more raised their voices in agreement. I raised an eyebrow and said, "Simple. I was here first.". Strangely, this didn't seem to appease him.

Oh well, good thing I didn't care.

"Alright, back to explanations!", I proclaimed, waiting once again for the conversations to die down, "So, the Conditor Tract is now known to all as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Its purpose, as dictated by the name, is to educate young witches and wizards about magic, how to use it, and the like. It includes such diverse subjects as Transfiguration, turning one thing into another; Charms, using magic to make objects do things; Potions, a magical version of chemistry; and Divination, a study of how to read the future.".

"All of us here are now proud owners of a portion of this great school. This is, in effect, no different than any other shareholders meeting, excepting the fact that the place of business is magical. That being said, there are a couple of rules.".

"First off, you cannot tell any non-magical person, known as a Muggle, about Hogwarts. If asked, simply say you own part of a private boarding school in Scotland. Second, do not attempt to get to the school without help from Gringotts. Hogwarts is protected by powerful anti-Muggle spells, and you will only see a pile of crumbling ruins. If approached, you will suddenly remember an extremely important appointment and rush off. So again, don't try to find the school.".

"Finally, do not try to use electronics in the school. I'm not sure if it's a specialized ward, or just magic itself, but electricity does not work here. I'm not sure if it's damaged or just suppressed, but I'd rather _not_ have you lose important information because you wanted to play Tetris on your phone.".

A few people looked put-out at this turn of events, to put it mildly, but for the most part people just looked resigned. I paused, then flicked my hand at the podium in front of me. A quill and a sheaf of parchment appeared, and with a disdained expression I flicked my hand again. The parchment turned into a notepad, and the quill into a pen. I balanced the pen on its tip and tapped it, and it stood at attention.

"Alright, things on the agenda!", I prompted, and the pen wrote 'Agenda' at the top of the page. "Number one, contact the Goblins for a copy of the school's financial records. Number two, ascertain the integrity of the school's assets. Number three, identify any investments, accounts receivable, accounts owed, bank loans, or mortgages that the school has. Number four, ascertain ways to increase the school's payout in order to pay off these debts.", I listed, and once it had finished I added, "Additional goals. Draft a letter to Harry Potter confirming the events of the books. Draft a letter to Buckingham Palace informing the Crown about the Wizengamot. Ascertain whether or not class content and teaching methods are effective and current.". I paused to let the quill finish, then asked the Hall, "Anything else to add?".

"Strike the letter of Buckingham Palace from the list.", Dumbledore piped up with a small smile and a benign twinkle in his eye, "I see no reason to bother the Crown with such trivial matters.".

Interestingly enough, my pen did no such thing.

"Sedition against the Crown is not what I'd call a trivial matter, Dumbledore.", I said without turning around, then continued, "Furthermore, only shareholders are allowed to submit and retract items from the list.". I rolled my eyes so that only the shareholders could see, then asked again, "Again, anything else to add?".

"Instigate a mandatory trip through the Thief's Downfall in Gringotts, an interview under Veritaeserum, and a thorough check by professional curse-breakers for all potential DADA teachers.", a girl, different than the first one, suggested. I blinked in surprise, then smiled and said, "A very good suggestion, though we'll need to get the approval of the Goblins for the first one.". The pen wrote down the suggestion as a boy piped up, "Hire curse-breakers to search the Chamber of Secrets for anything else of value. Also, get someone to render the basilisk down to potions' ingredients.", and those were written down as well.

"Of course, Professor Snape will have first dibs.", I put in mildly, and a few people snickered I murmured to myself, "I know there's something I'm for... Oh right! Create an official Hogwarts uniform for the House Elves.". The pen scratched it down, and when it was done I asked, "Is that all?". When nobody else spoke up, I clapped my hands and said, "Good! Then let's get started.".

I hummed in thought a bit, then called, "Alright, I need...perhaps two people to Floo to Gringotts and retrieve a copy of Hogwarts' financial records. Professor Sprout, could you show them the way to Dumbledore's office please?". "Of course.", she said graciously, making to rise, but Dumbledore once again butted in, "I don't see why Pomona should have to bother herself with such a thing. I'll escort -", but I cut him off.

"No. Like I said, we don't trust you.", I informed him shortly, again without turning around, and I saw a flicker of approval from a lot of the kids and some of the adults in the crowd. Dumbledore made a noise of disdain, but nonetheless Professor Sprout appeared in my field of vision a few moments later.

"So, volunteers?", I asked again, and quite a few people raised their hands. Most of them were kids, but I picked two of the only adults, a man and a woman. "Just show the Goblins your rings and they'll know you represent Hogwarts.", I told them, then asked, "Professor Sprout, could I trouble you further to go with them? They may get lost otherwise.". "No trouble at all.", she said with a cheery smile, then took the two by the arm and led them from the Hall.

"Right. Who here as actually read the books?", I asked, and unsurprisingly only a few kids didn't raise their hands. "Good! Get together and compile a brief summary of them for the letter to Harry. Anything that none of you can remember probably isn't worth mentioning.", I instructed, vanishing a row of empty pews in favor of a round table with its own paper and pen. I smiled as the kids all relocated, then let the grin slowly slip off my face as I raised my ring finger to stare at it thoughtfully.

There was an idea that was pervasive in almost all the Harry Potter fanfics I'd read, and something that I had been forced to think about a lot during my many feats of magic during the day. _I _wasn't magic, and I was pretty sure none of the teachers were helping me, so I wasn't particularly surprised that, when I called out in my head, _Hogwarts?_, the castle answered, _Yes?_


End file.
